The True Adventures of Lance Luthor
by RedTailedHawkens
Summary: After reading the description for 10x10, I got an idea. So, Clark was found and raised by Lionel, then he meets Lana. That's the story anyway. After that…who knows.  Oh, also, if Lionel found him, I really doubt he would name him Clark, so I named Lance.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Lex looked up at the ceiling. Above him, he could hear Lance snoring in his room. He grunted at the thought. Lance had a nice bed. Lance was having a sound sleep and not a worry in the world. Lance had their father's love. Lionel Luther had been so desperate for an heir he could be proud of, he had gone out and found one, adopted a boy younger than Lex. At age nine, his father had already given up on him. He knew he would never be the favorite, or anything close. Lance had claimed that. He would inherit everything. He had everything. Lex had nothing. But someday, that would change. That bastard was going to pay.

"Good morning boys." Lionel Luthor said as his sons entered the dining room. Lex was disheveled as usual, the bald, imperfect son. The mistake. That was all Lex was. If he did not look so much like his dearly departed mother, Lionel would probably have disposed of him years ago. Lance, however, was a son to be proud of. He was a Luthor in every way…save one.

Lance was not a Luthor by blood, he was something entirely different. Lance was a god among men, and Lionel had the honor of being his guidepost and center, the one who raised him, the only one who knew how to control him. He had done quite a lot to gain that position, something's that would be considered immoral, but morality is relative, and Lionel knew that more often than not, the ends justified the means. This was a lesson he had tried to impart on his sons, and Lance seemed to grasp it thoroughly. Lex, however, was another story. The boy had no vision whatsoever, he was directionless. He acted before thinking things through, letting his emotions rule him, and then Lionel had to clean up his mess.

"Why exactly are we here?" Lex asked. He was getting right to the point. How annoying.

"We are having a meal often referred to as breakfast. Honestly Lex, I hardly thought you a barbarian, but grown _men_ eat heartily in the morning. It is the most important meal, after all."

Lex winced at the way his father had spoken the word men. He knew what his father thought of him. Lionel had never attempted to hide it. After all, there was no need.

Lance came up behind Lex, clapping him hard on the shoulder. Lex winced. His brother seemed to grow stronger daily. Luthor's were hard workers, but the worked with their minds, not their bodies. Lance was no body builder, so where had all the muscle come from?

"What I believe my tactless brother meant to do was to inquire why we are all eating _together_ this morning?"

"Well put," Lionel said, giving a smirking Lance a nod of approval. Lex glared at him. "I thought it only fit that the whole family be together for this discussion."

The two boys waited. He eyed each one patiently, waiting to say who would break first. He knew whom his money was on.

"Discussion of?" _Ah, Lex. You never fail me,_ Lionel thought with a smirk.

"Patience, Lex, patience is an important trait. Luthor's are known for it, in fact." He untucked his napkin from his shirt collar and sat up straight, "Well, it has occurred to me recently that The Luthor's could benefit from a change of venue. The Luthor Ancestral Home has been sitting untouched for years now, almost a decade in fact. Your mother rather liked that house when we would visit. I think it's time some Luthor's moved in."

"I was under the impression that the Ancestral Home was in Scotland." Lex said. Lance chuckled quietly at his brother.

"No, I moved it to Smallville years ago. Lex, you knew that. No, Scotland is for the Scots; Luthor's are American, for better or for worse. And I intend for us to do something very American in moving to the most rural part of Kansas in existence, Smallville, Kansas. A Luthor needs to get his hands dirty every once in a while son, if only for the skill." Lionel lifted a drink to his lips. His sons did not move. "Well, you two best go back. We leave tomorrow."

"Rather short notice. We wouldn't be escaping the law, would we dad?"

"Lex, don't be absurd. I simply thought you had both learned the lessons in preparation for any and all circumstances that I have instilled upon you, and I was hoping you would prove me right."

Lex knew his father better than that. He was up to something. You never know a friend quite as well as you get to know an enemy, and while Lance had been playing the coveted role of favored son, Lex had been arming himself against a man who had made it clear that if Lex was ever to be anything other than a bug on his windshield, it would be because he had become a threat. Lionel did not believe Lex was smart enough to be his equal, let alone worthy adversary. But Lex knew that a time would come when his father would be begging him for something only he could give, something he needed as desperately as Lex needed his fathers love. And when that moment came, Lex would hold all the cards, have veto power so to speak; his father's fate would be solely in his hands. He had yet to decide if, when that moment came, he should show mercy.

Lance had not heard his father's request that they pack. He had stopped listening when Lionel had said '_Smallville._' He knew of Smallville. His father had told him that it was where he had come from, where he had been found all those years ago. And he knew that the answers to who or what he was, and why he was the way he was were there. His father had told him that one day, when he was old enough, they would return, and Lance would get the chance to explore his heritage, and to find all the answers he sought. And if he did find them, his father was of course to be informed, if he did not, it would be a shame upon him and his father, that he could not uncover the truth. He knew that that day had come.

The vague, fake explanation had been for Lex's benefit. Lex knew nothing of his origins. He believed that Lance had simply been adopted, which was technically true, but not in the traditional way. Lance had been found by Lionel Luthor in a cornfield in Smallville, Kansas, along with a recently crashed ship that he had traveled to earth in, and a language he had yet to understand. He did not remember anything of it. In fact, if his father had not kept to ship, he might never have known. Although, he had to admit, when his abilities, his superhuman strength, speed, and vision began to surface he surely would have suspected something. But now, now it was finally time. He would no longer have to suspect, he would know. Unless, of course, he could not find or figure out the answers. He shuttered to think how his father would react if he could not… he stopped the thought. Of course, he could. He could do anything. He was Lance Luthor. Lance was a god among men. This he knew. He had heard his father say it often enough. And Luthor, Luthor was a family that never failed. A Luthor could accomplish anything, and he was a Luthor. _No, you are not._ A small voice in the back of his mind whispered. He tried to ignore it. Adoption or not, he was a Luthor, especially when compared to his brother. Lex loathed him, he knew, and he liked it that way. It was better to be hated for what you have, then ignored for your insignificance. After all, that was what Lex was. He was insignificant, and he was ignored for it. He made pathetic attempts to get attention, partying and sleeping around and having it end up in the tabloids, and then there had been that whole club zero mess, but in the end, Lex would never have what Lance had. Lex would never truly be a Luthor.


	2. Chapter One

Author's Note: First, I would like to apologize. I accidentally. Put up a chapter from a different story here, but I am fixing it now.

Second, some things may not make sense yet, but remember, this is an Alternate Reality, and these things will be explained.

Third, I would like to thank whomever the anonymous person was who gave me my first ever fan-fiction review. I am very grateful, and while I do not really understand how it is relevant, I agree with what you said, and it is something I try to show. Nobody outside of a kids show decides to be evil. They think they are good; they just have a skewed perspective. Humanity and gray areas are what make a great story. I hope you felt I did this, but if you were saying I did not, clarify that, and I will certainly work on it. It is also clear you are very knowledgeable, good for you. I have never heard of The Boys. What is it? Thank you so much! Seriously! A first review is a milestone. Glad to know somebody is reading.

Chapter One

Alex watched his girlfriend smile brightly on top of the pyramid. It felt like Lana was smiling just for him. Finally, when practice was over, she broke away from the squad and approached him.

"Hey." She said, giving his a sweet peck. He grabbed her as she started to pull back and kissed her passionately. Lana was not one for public displays, but she let herself get lost in Alex for a minute.

"That's better." He said.

"What do you mean?" she asked breathlessly.

"I was starting to think you were mad at me. Light pecks instead of actual kisses…and you've been so distant lately."

Lana sighed. She had known this conversation was coming, "Alex, we're graduating soon. Leaving Smallville. You are going to be in California, I plan to be in Hartford. It's not exactly a recipe for a successful relationship."

"So, what, you're saying you want to break up?"

"No, of course not. I just don't want to get too attached when we're going to have to say goodbye soon."

"Well, that's a real shame, because I am so completely attached to you Miss Lang that a samurai sword could not break me from your side. My heart has left my chest and entered yours, and if I get to far from you, the blood will cease to flow through my veins."

"After a speech like that…how could I not fall in love with you." Lana froze. They had never said it before. She had thought it, but they had never spoken it, not yet. It was the scariest thing in the world, being in love, admitting it out loud.

"I love you too." Alex said. Lana kissed him. It was the scariest thing in the world to be in love, but it could also be the most wonderful.

Homecoming queen and quarterback play tonsil tennis for the millionth time after practice as the rest of the school has to sit and watch the stupidity of it all. The funny part is, they probably do not even like each other, they are just one of those couples who stay together because they look good together, and everybody will think they have it all and be jealous. Lana Lang has dated every quarterback since high school started, Whitney, Damon, Alex. One girl, three guys, all the same person. Bizarre reality.

"Hey, Sullivan!" Chloe was snapped out of her mental judgments by one of the Neanderthals in jockstraps, "What are you doing on the bleachers? I thought you boycotted all things sports related."

"A good journalist needs to be well informed of even the most vile parts of society." She shot back venomously.

"Whatever, why don't you disappear so Tara and I can have the bleachers." He said, motioning toward the cheerleader on his right. Tara stood awkwardly waiting. Ditz's and Neanderthal's. Did it get anymore cliché?

"Oh, sorry, I just figured that you wouldn't be doing anything on a bench until that rash cleared up, my mistake." Tara looked at the guy, shocked as Chloe got off the bleachers, "All yours." She said dramatically as she motioned to the spot she had been sitting at.

She left not looking to see the effects of what she said. She had to get _The Underground_ out soon.

When Chloe reached her offices, she took a quick inventory. It was pretty hard running a paper with no resources, but she would not be discouraged. She used to be in charge of The Torch, the Smallville High Paper, but after many articles that the principal had deemed fanciful, scary, and lacking evidence, she had been sacked. Alice Stanley now ran the paper. The girl was not a horrible person, but her idea of a hard news story was who won the science fair and which teacher was up for tenure. Chloe had refused to be silenced, and had started an underground, untraceable paper that reported the truth. However, with being the only employee, lacking any kind of funding, and having to work under that radar, she was seriously handicapped.

She scanned her server, looking for any detail that somebody in this hick town had overlooked in their desire to live in ignorance, keeping things perfect and pleasant. She was surprised to see something about Smallville in The Daily Planet. Clicking on the article, she read:

Famous Billionaire Mogul and Family Choose to Leave City Life For Small Town.

Suddenly, Chloe knew her shot had come. The most famous and influential family was moving to Smallville, and for once, even The Planet could not be accurate. There was not way in hell the Luthor's were moving to Smallville just so they could get in touch with their inner Jacob Witting.

There was a mystery here, the kind that made Chloe tingle with anticipation. It could even be Pulitzer worthy…_ calm down Sullivan, don't get ahead of yourself._

The article said that as of tomorrow, the Luthors would be moving in to The Mansion, The crowning architectural glory of Smallville.

Chloe grabbed her bag. She was going for a drive.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Chloe little bug pulled into the mansion. She knew the place would be swarming tomorrow with movers and press, not to mention Luthors. If she wanted the inside scoop, step one was examining the premises before hand. A preemptive strike.

Today, it was fairly empty and easy to access. There was no security, which made sense. After all, what would they be guarding? The place was locked of course, but Chloe was nothing if not skilled at breaking down digital, and actual barriers. She unlatched the rusty old gate. The whole place was ancient, a nod to Scottish architecture. Actually, she had heard in was built in Scotland and brought over, but that had been before she moved to Smallville.

She closed the heavy door behind her. It was horror-movie dark, but Chloe had come prepared with a flashlight. She flicked it on and stood in awe. The place was huge. It had a very Ballechin House feel to it. Chloe wondered briefly if the place might be haunted.

She tried to tune her weirdar down slightly; she was not here to hunt a ghost, but a far bigger prize. If the Luthors were suddenly moving here, there must be a reason, and the mansion was the only clue she had.

She made her way down the narrow hallway, half expecting something to jump out and grab her. Opening a pair of double doors, she was surprised the find the place fully furnished. There was a piano and a desk, not to mention a pool table and a full bookshelf. Chloe was tempted to pull a book back in search of a hidden passageway.

Running her fingers over the dusty shelf, she saw many strategy and war books, as well as Greek poetry and ancient myths. _Quite a library._

"Find something you like?"

Chloe turned, startled by the voice. She was surprised to see an elderly woman with shoulder-length brown hair. Based on the woman's voice, she guessed she had spent the better part of her youth with a cigarette taped to her lips.

Chloe decided to play dumb, "Hi. I'm sorry, do you live here? We thought it was vacant."

"We?" the woman said.

"Yeah, my friends and I. See, we've always thought it was haunted, and they kind of dared me too, well…we didn't think anybody actually lived here. Sorry. "

"Actually, I don't live here, but I suspect you already know that Miss Sullivan."

"How do you know my name?"

"Next time you decide to break and enter, you might want to disable the video feed first." The woman said tossing Chloe a tape. Chloe caught it, "now, I don't think I'll be seeing you around here again, will I?"

Chloe gaped. Who was this woman? Was she friend, foe, some weird combo platter? Before she could ask, the woman was gone. Chloe should have left then, but she was not ready yet. Instead, she inspected the place for back entrances and servants quarters. She took as many picture as she could to investigate later, and used her locksmithing kit on all the back entrance locks. A little immoral, maybe, but there was clearly something big happening here, and it was her duty as an aspiring journalist to discover what.

Michael sat across from Lana Lang, watching her read her copy of _Les Misérables_. She always came into the library around this time, and he loved it. It was harder when she was in her house or something, hard to get close without her noticing, and hard to make up in excuse if she did. But the library was public, common ground, perfect for a couple outcasts like them. She could put on as much makeup and belt out as many cheers as she wanted, but he could see what lay beneath. She was an outcast, just like him. She read too much to be the bimbo that a lot of people thought she was, like that Sullivan girl (she had to be dealt with). And she smiled too much and too widely to actually be happy. Michael could see her, the real her, and he knew that nobody else did. Nobody appreciated her like he did, none of her dumb boyfriends or teammates, none of her so-called friends. They had let her almost get hurt so many times, and if he had not been around to protect her, who knows what might have happened. He would always protect her, from those who tried to hurt her, from boyfriends who were not good enough, from everything. She was his. It did not matter what anybody else said or thought. She was his. She belonged to him, and she always would.

Lana felt somebody's eyes on her. She almost looked up, but she suppressed the feeling. After all, everybody here was reading. That was why she liked the library so much. Nobody came here to see her, or see anybody. It was not about being social. It was quiet, and private. For some reason, Lana never felt more comforted then when the only voice she could hear was that of a narrator. Books were her only escape from her life, not that she would ever admit it. To the passerby, she was just an avid reader, not a prisoner of the façade that was her life. She had seen so much death, lost so many people, she did not even know who she was anymore, who she was expected to be, who she truly was. Deep, deep down inside, she knew the true Lana Lang had to exist, but she had been buried by so many barriers, so many fear induced façades, that she was certain she would never recognize herself. It would take a miracle to pull her up from beneath the rubble. Until then, she was forever lost.

The library was about to close, but Lana was not ready to leave her new world behind, so she had taken the book out, barely putting it down, and exited the library as she made her way home.

"Move!" Lana heard a male voice call. She didn't see where it came from, but she was thankful for the warning, and the fact that she had heard it. She had been pretty wrapped up in her book, and she had not been watching where she was going, which explained how the motorcycle barely clipped her. If she had not heard the warning, it could have been pretty serious. The driver did not look like he showed any intention of slowing down. As it was, her arm was bleeding, and the boy on the motorcycle just kept riding. Lana felt venom well up in her, and she almost chased after him, but she knew she could not outrun a motorcycle, especially when she was losing blood. So, she gathered herself up and headed for the nearest store, hoping they would have a first aid kit handy, which, of course, they did.

Lance Luthor. Michael had recognized him almost instantly. The bastard. He had almost run Lana over. He had not even slowed. He had to have seen her. You could not _not_ see Lana Lang when she was right in front of you. But he had just kept going, and if Lana had not heard Michael's quick warning, she could be hospital bound right now. Another asshole in Smallville trying to hurt his fairy princess. But Michael was her white knight, had always been. He would save her from the Luthor Monster, just as he always did. Lance Luthor would not know what hit him.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

In retrospect, it probably had not been the wisest thing to walk and read at the same time, but one must remember that Smallville was a safe, warm little town (unless you believed the mutant rumors). Everybody here was a friendly, careful conscience driver. Besides, the town was so small most people walked everywhere anyway.

She did not know why she was still thinking about it. She was fine. Though she was curious as to who had warned her. She had thought it might be the driver, but his lack of concern for her welfare had squelched that theory. "Lana!" she heard Alex's voice as he came running into the apartment.

It was a small place the two of them rented. Lana's Aunt who had raised her had met a guy during that tornado a couple years back and moved to Metropolis. Lana had not wanted to leave. She had been seeing Damon then, and she was not exactly in love with her life in Smallville, but she was in love with him. At least, she had thought so at the time. In retrospect, she did not know, but he had died in a tragic car accident, so she supposed she would never know now. In any case, she had worked out a deal with Nell so she could stay in town, and when she and Alex had started going out and then getting serious, they had decided to move in together.

"Are you okay? I heard what happened." _Stupid small towns. _Lana thought. She cared for Alex, but he could be a little too overprotective sometimes.

"I'm fine. Relax." She said, kissing him, trying to calm his fears. When the kiss ended, he held her tight.

"I just worry about you." He said.

"I know you do, and I appreciate it, but I really am fine. "

"Okay," Alex said, kissing her forehead, "I'll go pick up dinner. How's Chinese sound?"

"Perfect." Lana said. He had not needed to ask. He knew Chinese was her favorite, but that was what she loved about Alex. He was so considerate, always thinking about her. They had been getting closer…which was starting to worry her. It seemed like whenever she started to truly care for a guy, something happened to him. They either died in some tragic accident, or else they just disappeared and she never heard from them again. Lana had often felt she was cursed. Cursed to live forever watching the people she loved die and never have anything happen to her. She felt guilty to no end about that. When her parents had perished in the meteor shower, she kept thinking she should have gone with them. What more right did she have to live then they? Then, it kept happening. She was always miraculously safe from danger. She had been safe from the tornadoes and any other natural disasters that had hit Smallville. She always came out unscathed. In fact, she had never even been in danger long enough to feel fear. She had feared for others of course, but never herself. It was almost as though she had a guardian angel. She only wished she could tell him to leave her and save those she cared for. She was not significant enough to be saved all the time as everybody around her kept dying.

Lana sighed and took out her book, getting lost in the pages once again. Perhaps, she thought, if for just an instant, it would have been better if the motorcycle had run her over. The thought terrified her; so much so that she leapt up and threw the book on the couch as though it were a vile thing giving her thoughts she did not want.

She grabbed her phone and dialed Alex's cell number.

"Hi, are you all right?" she asked, anxiously.

"I'm fine," he said with a slight chuckle, "I thought I was the overprotective worrier in this relationship." Lana smiled, soothed by his voice and the knowledge that he was safe.

* * *

Michael watched Lana as she hung up the phone and settled back onto the couch with her book. _Poor little girl. So afraid of the world, hiding in your books. I will keep you safe my darling. I always have._

* * *

Lance looked around, his expression bored and uninterested . In truth, he was very nervous, but not about his first day of school. Lance had had many first days of schools, and none of them mattered. He had more important things on his mind. Such as finding his origins. He waited impatiently for his class schedule so he could get this day over with and get on to his task here in Smallville.

"Mr. Luthor, this is Lana Lang. she will be your tour guide while you try to navigate our wonderful school." the bubbly elderly woman in the glasses said. Well, if that just was not enough to make you barf. Lance turned to see a girl around his age glaring at him intently. He could not quite read her expression. So, this was his tour guide. He gave her a once over. She was pretty, but a little too innocent and conservative for his taste. Then again, corrupting can be fun.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Lana had not gotten much sleep last night. Her mind kept thinking over the near accident, her curse, and her disturbing thoughts. She decided showing a new kid around would probably be a good distraction. Lana was very involved in all school functions. She was a very good student, and the first person called on for most jobs. She was told she would be showing around Lance Luthor, the younger son of the Luthor clan. Her aunt had known the Luthor's, and she had only met Lionel Luthor once. She did not know enough about them to form an opinion. Yes, she had heard the stories, but she preferred to form her own opinion of people. When she came to the office to see the secretary giving the younger Luthor his instructions, she was stunned to find that the younger Luthor was the boy who had almost run her over yesterday, he looked at her, scanning her up and down as though she were a car he was deciding whether or not to buy. She felt very uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze; she felt objectified and violated.

"I see your first class is science." She said, looking at the copy of his schedule that she had been given to aid him. She just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"Well, I have always been a fan." He said.

"So you blow a lot of hot air around." She said under her breath. He heard her, of course.

"Lance." He said.

"Lana" she said politely sticking out her hand even though she would rather be covered with boils than touch him. She looked out however, as he did not take her hand. _No surprise there_, she thought, rolling her eyes. If I guy cannot be bothered to stop and check on a near victim, he is unlikely to be bothered with proper etiquette. "Well, the labs are this way." She said pointing, "I assume you can count and read, but if not, just look for the symbols that look just like the ones you see on your schedule. If you get lost, people are pretty polite around here. I am sure any one of them would be more than willing to give you directions, but it is not a very big school. You should be fine." She turned to walk away.

He grabbed her arm, "Some welcoming committee. You know, I don't feel very welcome." He said, freeing her arm.

"Well, I cannot really control how you feel, but I feel I am being very cordial, and I apologize if you misinterpreted my greeting." She smiled, and he could tell she was trying to be polite, but he could feel her revulsion. Winning over an enemy is an ultimate accomplishment for a Luthor. Besides, it would be nice to have a side project to occupy him during his school hour. He decided that she was a challenge he was determined to meet, a game he was determined to win, just to prove that he could. She headed off again and he watched her walk away, and after seeing the view, he decided he would have to make her walk away from him more often. She was after all, a lovely, impressionable girl, and despite her off-putting manner, he was the first to admit she was hot, especially from the backside._This will be quite an enjoyable game_ he thought smirking as he headed off to science class.

* * *

Chloe sat in the lab playing with her pencil. She was not exactly a fan of science, unless it was the bizarre, inexplicable kind.

As she waited, she noticed a tall figure enter the door. He had an attractive body, and when she saw his face, she recognized him as none other than Lance Luthor, her possible in for her newest project. Normally, she was against using friendship to get a story, but as this boy was a Luthor, she was certain she could make an exception. As he looked around for somewhere to sit, she spoke up.

"This seats free." She said, pointing next to her. He glanced over at her, but specifically sat somewhere else. Chloe's spirit was not broken, however. She did not expect a Luthor to trust right away. She just had to find the right angle. And she would, she was certain of that. She was Chloe Sullivan, crusader of the written word. She never gave up on a story.


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Lance was not exactly eager to eat lunch on campus, but this was the one school he could not afford to be kicked out of, at least, not if he wanted to uncover the mystery of his heritage.

He chose an empty table and prayed nobody would join him.

"Hi." No such luck, "I'm Chloe, welcome to Smallville."

Lance rolled his eyes. The girl was not unattractive, but also not worth his time. He had two goals while he was here, to bed and corrupt Lana Lang, and to discover where he came from. She was not a part of either goal.

"I guess you're not very chatty. That's all right; I can keep up a conversation all by myself." she leaned in and said, "Five bucks says I bug the hell out of you."

Lance smirked. She was already doing that. Still, her comment intrigued him a little. He looked at her again, appraising her in the true Luthor fashion. She was short, fairly attractive. Her outfits were a little unconventional and did not show as much skin as most teenagers' clothes do. This showed that she was different, and she took pride in it. She was the sort of girl who would die before conforming to the social scene, which probably meant, deep down, she sort of wanted to be a part of it. She clearly fancied herself mature. She was dressed more for a day the office than a day at school. She was more mature than her classmates, and more intelligent, which had been what had made her an outsider in the first place, but she had embraced it. She was tough; she liked a challenge. But her eyes were sad. She had seen pain, and not just high school breakup soap opera pain, but real pain.

Right now, he did not want to be bothered, but maybe he could find a way to make use of her in the future. She went on talking. She was trying to bug him, smoke him out of his foxhole as it were, by talking, so much he was forced to speak in return. He pretended not to hear her. In truth, he was listening intently. She was divulging information about herself, and he might need it later. She had apparently grown up in Metropolis, and moved to Smallville four years ago because her dad had been transferred. Her dad apparently worked for the Luthorcorp fertilizing plant.

When the lunch bell finally rang, Chloe got up to leave, but not before asking if she had won the bet. Lance pretended not to hear her question, and being a woman of her word, she deposited a five-dollar bill on the table in front of him.

"We'll have to go another round." She said, smiling, "I haven't given up yet, Fitz."

* * *

Lana half expected to find Lance Luthor sitting at her lunch table and was relieved he was not there. She was starting to feel a little paranoid, but she had seen the way he had looked at her. She had actually been feeling paranoid for a while now. In fact, for years, she had felt certain that somebody had been following her, watching her, but there was never anybody there. She sat down with Alex and her friends from the squad, keeping her eyes open.

"I hear he got arrested, so his dad sentenced him to come here."

"That's ridiculous Linda, everybody knows Lex is the bad boy, and Lance is the hot golden boy."

"Lance is a little bad. Besides, they're both hot."

Lana wanted to scream. It seemed all anybody could talk about was the school's new celebrity. She wondered what they would think if they knew he had almost run her over the other day and not even slowed down to see how she was. They would probably find some positive way to spin it, she thought. These girls should definitely work in the tabloids someday.

"I'll be right back." She said, kissing Alex and heading off in the bathroom. Once the door was shut, she placed her hands on the edges of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked so tired to her own eyes, a shell of herself. She did not know why. She was young, she was in love, and people finally seemed to have forgotten that stupid magazine article. Everything was going so well, and yet it wasn't. She saw a tear streaming down the cheek of the face in the mirror. Did she even recognize this girl?

She checked to make sure all of thee stalls were empty. Then, she took a deep breath, and screamed at the top of her lungs. She had done it before; it was cathartic. For an instant, she felt free. But then reality returned. The bell rang.

* * *

Lana lingered for a moment. She did not want to be late; she had perfect attendance, and she had worked hard for it, but she was not ready to rejoin her peers just yet.

Finally, she pushed the bathroom door open and almost ran over Lance Luthor. _Ironic_, she thought, _considering_.

"Whoa, if you wanted to get closer to me, all you had to do was ask." He said in a humorous tone.

Lana's expression was stern, annoyed, and slightly repulsed, "You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"

Lance smiled, "So, we're not pretending to be polite anymore I take it?"

"I was polite, but politeness only lasts to a point before lack of reciprocation brings about a very different demeanor."

"I see." He said slowly. He was looking her up and down again. She wanted to yell at him to stop, but she was sure if she did, he would find some way to use her words against her.

"I'm going to be late." She said, starting to head towards class.

"So am I." he said, following next to her.

"Yes, but I actually care about my grades."

"And you're assuming I don't."

"Do you?" she challenged.

He got in front of her, blocking her path. "That's a rather hurtful assumption. Didn't anybody ever tell you to get to know somebody before jumping to conclusions about who they are?"

"I think I know enough."

"How, from tabloids?"

Lana scoffed, "You really don't remember, do you?" she asked. She knew he did not, but she also knew the question would bug him. So, she asked it and waited for his reaction.

Lance stopped, "We've met before."

"If you don't remember, I am certainly not going to tell you." Then, because she thought it might be fun, she added, "Not that there was all that much to remember." And there wasn't, but she knew how he was likely to interpret the comment. She walked around him and headed off to her class, leaving him there. Lana one, Lance zero.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Lance sat in his room, working on his homework. He had not gotten very far. He kept thinking about what Lana had said. He tried hard to remember her, but he was coming up blank. It was not as though he kept a record of all the girls he had been involved with, but he had a pretty decent memory. Better than decent in fact. He never forgot anything. But he could not remember her. Clearly, however their encounter had gone, and he could only imagine, she was still pretty bitter about it. He kept thinking about what she had said. "_Not that there was all that much to remember."_ He knew what that meant, and while she was probably just trying to mess with him, he still felt bitter about the implication. It was offensive, really. He was exceptionally memorable. He was so memorable, in fact, that he had had quite a few stalkers in his day. He knew she had to be lying, but he could not stand that particular lie. He decided to do a full-scale background check on the girl, find out all the times she had left Smallville, where she had been, and anytime they could have possibly crossed paths.

"Working hard?" he heard Lex say. He growled. "I assume that is homework of some sort. It must be hell having to go to school with a bunch of hicks who hate you for your money."

"Well, it's better than hating me for being follicley challenged."

Lex's face fell a little, "Not your most creative."

"Well, why not use what works?"

"You're off your game."

"I just have more important things to do than playing."

"Such as?"

"How is it that you are six years older and yet I am the mature one?"

"You're not mature, you're a kiss up. And don't think that means dad won't screw you over when it suits him."

Lance rolled his eyes. He knew Lex was just trying to get to him, but he never would. That was the difference between the two, Lex had too much of his mother in him, too much heart. He let his emotions rule him. That made it easier to get under his skin, but Lance did not have time for something like this. He was busy, and he was tired. Walking away would make Lex think he had gotten to him, so all he could do was try to ignore him and hope the Lex would eventually lose interest.

* * *

Chloe headed over to the Smallville cemetery. She always went this time of year, on the anniversary. It was not the most uncommon practice. And there was not anybody else t visit the grave. Not that Chloe minded. In fact, it made her feel close to him, and less guilty that she had not been there. When Chloe had first moved to Smallville and started the Smallville Middle School Paper, she had only had one staff member, Pete Ross. Pete had been assigned to show her around, and while he pretended he was a ladies man, Chloe knew he had never even been on a date. Anyway, he was funny, and sweet, and a good friend. The two had become best friends very quickly.

The longer Chloe had lived in Smallville, the more aware she had become of the strange things that tended to happen around here. She and Pete had worked to expose the extraterrestrial nature of the town, and they found themselves in some pretty dangerous situations. Chloe had a bed reserved at the hospital. She had spent more time there, in the operation room, in a hospital bed recuperating, or comatose, than she had anywhere else. She had almost died more times than she could count, and she had had a million blood transfusions. Pete had also had some trouble. They helped each other out of scrapes as much as they could, but they were only human. When Pete had been killed, Chloe had still been in a coma. She did not find out until she woke up a week in a half later. The funeral had been over by then. Chloe had not gotten to sit with him when the doctors were trying to fix him, or when the men from the cemetery had lowered his body into the soil. She had not had the opportunity to say goodbye.

After Pete's passing, the Ross's had moved away, unable to take living in Smallville anymore. There had been more deaths. Chloe had tried to stop them, but she had always been to late. What Smallville needed was a guardian angel, but something like that was just a fairytale, Chloe knew, and it was all she could do to try and expose dangers through her writing. Nobody ever believed them, even with all the proof she would publish. Still, she persevered, hoping one day she might save somebody, even though she could not save Pete. She was getting a little tired of being the girl who cried wolf, but if she could make a difference, it would be worth it. She owed it to Pete; he had been the only one to believe her, other than her father of course. She really wished she could have saved him.

"Hey Pete." She said, "It's that time of year again. I've missed you." She never really knew what to say; the whole talking to the dead really was not her thing. It should be, after all, most everyone she knew was dead or gone. Pete was dead, her connections kept dying, her friends, her enemies. That was why she did not really make friends anymore, at least, not unless there was a purpose. And with Lance Luthor, there was a purpose. She considered telling Pete about Lance, but thought better of it. She was pretty sure she was alone, but one could never be too sure, and she did not think she wanted to risk it. So, she just sat there, and let herself cry.

* * *

What could the Luthor's possibly want with Smallville? That was what he wanted to know. They had a financial stake in the land, but that had been true for years. No, Lionel was planning something, and he was going to find out what.

He leaned forward and called to the pilot.

"Change of plans. Plot a course for Smallville Kansas."

The driver nodded, "Yes sir." He said, and they were off.

* * *

Lex sat at his desk, going over what he had found. Apparently, his brother was spending a large amount of his time researching the background of a local girl, a Miss Lana Lang. He knew that she was the niece of Nell Potter, whom his father had had quite a few successful business dealings with, but aside from that, there did not appear to be anything particularly fascinating about the girl. He had not the slightest clue what Lance's interest in her was, but if Lance was interested, so was he.

He headed to the local library, grabbed a book off the shelves, and searched for the girl whose picture he had found on the computer. He admitted that she was certainly attractive, if a little young. But then, eighteen was not all that young, was it?

"Hello, mind if I sit here?" he said casually as he motioned to the seat across from her.

She smiled, "Be my guest."

Lex reclined and opened a book he had picked up. He had decided to pick up _The Art of War_ by Sun Tzu. He had read it so many times he had the book memorized, freeing up his attention for conversation. He glanced over at Lana and read the title of the book she was reading.

"School Assignment?" he asked casually.

Lana looked up and followed his eyes. "No, actually. Pleasure."

"I'm surprised. That's a pretty complicated book."

"Are you assuming that I lack intelligence and depth because I'm a girl, or because I'm in high school? Not that it matters, I would just like to know how to take the insult." Lana said, then smiled humorously.

"Are you always this blunt with people you've only just met?"

"Was I being blunt?" Lana asked with a smirk.

Lex laughed. "Well, you're funny, I'll give you that." Maybe this would not be a complete waste of time after all.


	8. Author's Note

Author's Note:

Hello.

So, I know it has been a really long time since I have updated, and I apologize for that.

I have a lot of stories going right now, and it can be hard to keep track sometimes, plus sometimes there is writers block, and also life, which unfortunately gets in the way of fan fictions which we all know are more important.

I wanted to assure all of you that while it has been a while, and I do not know how soon I will be updating, I am NOT, I repeat NOT, dropping this story.

I hate when people drop stories, and when I made my account I promised myself I would never drop one.

So, yes, it may be a while, depending on other factors, but I promise you, unless I unexpectedly die, this story and all of the others will be finished. Maybe not today, or this week, or even this month, but they will be. I understand if you don't want to wait around, because it might be a while, but I promise, I will finish these stories. I just wanted to make that clear, and apologize for how long it is taking.

Have a good day.

Sincerely,

~RedTailedHawkens


End file.
